Relics
by BesserwisserForHire
Summary: When the past is nothing but a memory, washed away by the sands of time, left are the relics. Forgotten, lost and alone, how does one find a purpose in a world that was never yours to begin with? Prideshipping, Darkshipping. Post series.
1. Trial of Hearts

Aaah... my first multi-chapter YGO-fic. Slightly silly, slightly farfetched and well, stupid. But I hope you'll like it.

**Pairings; **Kaiba/Atemu, Bakura/Atemu.  
**Warnings; **Bakura-language, lazy editing, violence, boy/boy love and... uhm... crazy author.  
**Summary; **After returning to a world in which he was never meant to be, the only thing keeping Atemu from regretting his return is love. But when the Gods start having second thoughts, the former Pharaoh must prove he has a reason to keep on living or be forced to return to the afterlife. This is proving to be harder than he thought as everything bit by bit starts to crumble around him. The King of Games never loses, but in a game of love, hate, deceit and purpose, can he really win?**  
Disclaimer; **Oh please. You and I both know who owns them, so stop rubbing it in my face.

If it's worth continuing, please do tell me or otherwise I'll be torturing our Pharaoh in vain, won't I?

* * *

**Chapter One  
Trial of Hearts**

Atemu groaned morosely as he sat down, slowly and warily like an old, brittle man. His teeth were grid together furiously, a look of pure and naked determination set on his strained features. Atemu wasn't one to let discgracious emotions seep through his outer mask of dignity and pride. But sometimes, on very rare occasions, the pain was just a tiny bit stronger than he was and didn't hesitate proving this with all its might. Before the former Pharaoh could stop himself, a nasty hiss of pain slipped through his lips.

From somewhere beside him, there came a disdainful sigh.

''What are you jabbing on about now?'' Bakura snarled in irritation, his eyes opening slightly to glare at him in indignation.

Atemu fought hard and brave to regain his royal mask, the bloodred eyes gleaming mysteriously in the dim lights. He clenched his fists, steadied his dizzy mind and through the fog of pain he shouted commands at his brain which no sane person would ever disobey. The 3 lbs behind his skull almost sighed sullenly.

''It _hurts_'' the Pharaoh stated in poorly concealed discomfort.

Bakura snorted, a humorless sneer upon his face.

''Of course it hurts. It's a royal pain in the ass, it's _supposed _to hurt.''

The King of Games glared thinly at him, the humor sliding off him like grime. The former spirits' eyes met, and a resentful tension sparkled between them. Atemu was not in the mood to be shunned, and even less he felt like being humiliated. Then of course it was the worst one, which he avoided like one would avoid a multiple-headed monster with exceptionally bad breath; _pity._

This, he guessed, was the sole reason that he was sitting in a room with Bakura of all people, when he could as well have been sitting with someone less… homicidal. The tomb robber sat gleefully in the tattered armchair, eyeing the Pharaoh like a predator eyes its dinner. Whatever lurked inside those mad, malignant eyes of his, Atemu could never be completely sure of. What he could be certain of, at least, was that the thief was never going to pity him. Hate him, plot how to bring upon his gruesome death, yes, this was highly likely. But pity? Never in a million years.

''Imagine my wrath then'' Bakura said ''when I realized that the man I had spent not only the previous lifetime, but the current one as well, to murder was going to have casual chitchat with me. I swear Pharaoh, sometimes you're like despicable mold''

Atemu snorted, finally getting into the armchair he had been trying to climb the last five minutes. Even though it sort of saddened him, there was truth to the Thief King's words. He could never have guessed that someone who had spent the past trying to bring his Kingdom to its knees, defiling his father's grave and nearly killing him more times than he could ever count, and then the current lifetime doing the exact same thing but in a more modern, secret fashion, was residing in his very own living room. The creepy and odd thing about it was that he still had all his blood inside his body.

But then again, he mused grimly, that was all in the past. Ancient Egypt and the kingdom he and his father, and his father before him, had ruled and made flourish, had since long ago fallen into oblivion. No one remembered his name, and up until recently he hadn't done so either. No one would know about the battles they fought, the victories they gained and the losses they suffered during those dark, dark years. Bravery would go down the drain, wasted on the ignorance of mankind. There would be no tales of their sacrifice and nothing to tell about the hatred. Bakura's sole purpose for living had been washed away by the sands of time and perhaps with it had also Atemu's.

The former Pharaoh sighed, and despite the throbbing, screaming pain pulsating through his veins, this physical agony seemed far off and distant. Like it was not actually there, or like _he_ wasn't actually there. Looking through a dusty old veil at a world which had no use for him, no remembrance and no nothing. He might as well have been just a spirit still, because honestly it would have made no difference. Atemu turned his head towards his side, looking silently at his life long enemy and mortal nemesis.

Bakura glared heatedly back at him, and still his eyes were so very cold. Three thousands and more years of pain, darkness and harsh, harsh nights had marked them, scarred that evil grin of his and the very aura that surrounded him. For a fickle, tratiourous moment, Atemu thought it looked fairly... good. Like that familiar old teddybear you always cling to in times of peril, even though you don't spend it any attention otherwise. Like the white haired scoundrel was the only thing which actually proved his existence, the only trace of his past that still lingered on. He muttered harshly at his thoughts, demanding they go away. But for once they disobeyed the royalty's words and left the Pharaoh feeling very tormented. Do you enjoy tormenting me, pitiful mind? He snarled at them, but they only answered him with silence.

Silence and light, nearly inaudible laughs. As if they knew something he himself did not.

''How did you manage being so brutally clumsy, anyway?'' Bakura drawled bitterly, as if the words tasted foul and putrid.

''You know how in Egypt there never is any ice?'' Atemu said, eyes passionate and glowing with that stubborn pride, but his face softer this time, his voice almost humorous in a very sarcastic, dark way.

''Yes, I think I might have noticed that once or twice.''

''Well, let's just say Japan is slightly different on that part.''

Bakura snorted, grinning ever so slightly.

''That's not the only thing different from Egypt, I suppose''

Atemu shrugged loosely, looking darkly at nothing.

''Yes, I know'' he sighed, closing his eyes as he leant back into the chair.

The sinister, furious pain in his back from the not so nice slip he had endured earlier on beforementioned ice, clawed rabidly at his senses. The former spirit tried to ignore them, but they still managed to draw out the occasional growl. Bakura watched him silently, wondering when everything went so wrong. How come he, the greatest thief of them all, ended up failing his life mission so miserably? Not only had he not succeeded in killing the damn Pharaoh, but also they had started talking like… like… dared he even think it? It was too horrible to even momentarily ponder about. Bakura bit his teeth down harshly.

_They were conversationing like regular, civilized people._

Look at him there, the white haired man growled to himself. He's sitting right there, spacing off into nothing, his throat unguarded. If Bakura only leaped for it, grabbed the nearest sharp object he could find he could have it all over in seconds. Plus, the Pharaoh was injured and would not be moving, or reacting, as quickly as usually. So why didn't he? Why was he just sitting there in that stupid armchair about as useless as a used tampon? In the two years that had passed since the whole melodrama that had been the story of their life was over, he had had so many chances to actually strike the other man dead that it was almost ludicrous.

But no, of course not, as fate would have it, he hadn't slit the man's throat open. He hadn't shot him dead and splattered his brain across the carpet. He hadn't decapitated his limbs and shoved them into the blender. And of course, he had not so conveniently pushed the damn man down the damn stairs when he actually had the opportunity to. And why? Well that was a very good question and Bakura often found himself asking it as well. The thing was, he never got a proper answer.

It wasn't that he didn't have the answer, because well, on some plane he guessed he did. It was just that the answer was so mind blowing absurd that he felt stupid just considering telling himself about it. Yes, the King of Thieves had never been considered to be much of a sane man, but there were lines even he had yet to cross.

''I hate you'' he growled, making Atemu lift a curious eyebrow.

''Oh? Well, that I hadn't noticed.''

''Are you _mocking_ me, pharaoh?''

Atemu's lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to smile but had forgotten how to. The tomb robber glared at him so savagely furious it would have sent Ammit running.

''I should kill you right now'' he snarled, voice dripping from the poison in his words.

Atemu though, didn't look even the tiniest bit bothered. In fact, he looked sort of content.

''But you won't''

He looked like he was in fact not in the same room as a man whose biggest ambition had been to rip his very spine out. This, if possible, angered Bakura further and he was almost close to leaping out of his chair, but in the last second chose not to. He ruffled his white locks angrily, leaning back against the chair with a very disliking scowl.

''I really, really, really hate you, Pharaoh.''

Atemu smiled now, melancholy evident in the gesture.

''At least something is like it used to be, then.''

''Yes'' Bakura muttered irately, his eyebrow twitching, eyes darker than the shadow realm. ''It appears so.''

He wondered what had happened, what had become of them and their world. Nothing was the way it used to be, the way it was supposed to be, the way it should be. It was as if fate just decided to roll over and die in their faces, deciding their own destiny with just a simple toss of a dice. It had left them empty, hollow and useless. Atemu had no country to rule and no citizens to protect, no titles to claim. Yes, he still had Yugi, didn't he? But eventually, they all had to grow up. He was not really a child anymore, was he? After all, Atemu had been gone for a long time. Yugi must have accustomed to this new way of living, that cold echoing hole inside his heart. He felt it too, didn't he? Atemu sure did.

Bargaining with the Gods, pleading endlessly to them, offering them everything just for the chance to go back, had it all been in vain? Had he left Aaru for nothing? Just to reside in the world as nothing more than and old shadow of what once was? At least, with Yugi, he had had a purpose. He had been someone, he had had a purpose and a sense of direction and even though his memory was lost into the darkness, at least he had his partner. But just like the rest of the world, the little man, not so little anymore, went on with his life, walking down the path of his own future. Perhaps, Atemu often found himself pondering, his future had already been used.

He did not belong in this era, after all. He was supposed to be dead, twice now, and yet there he was. Just a ghost, a phantom with a body of flesh and blood and tissue and his soul, yes his soul had its own host now. He was reborn, for the third time, and supposedly, hopefully the last one too. No wonder the world held no regards of him, he wasn't even supposed to be there. He and Bakura, they were strangers in a time which they had no right to intrude. Anachronisms, if you may.

So what now? Atemu asked himself, What now will I do? What could he do? He had a place to stay and his own bed and his own clothes, his own deck and his own shoes to walk through life with. But he had already seen and done so much, what was left? When the others were studying he really had no one to socialize with, and having been born thousands of years ago, there were no records of him stating his very existence. The former great Pharaoh, the proud Atemu and the sly Yami he was, King of Games and all that, he wasn't even there. He had his name, yes, finally after all his struggles, but to what extent? No one seemed to know it anyway. It was hard enough to trick people into believing he was Yugi's relative, but keeping curious eyes away from digging further into this lie was a full-time task. Of course, very often people mistook him for Yugi and well, in a way he was Yugi too but… it was all so very complicated.

The one to take his return the grimmest though, had to be Kaiba Seto. The look on the CEO's face when he had gotten the news, let alone seen it for his own eyes, had been priceless. If Bakura would have seen it Atemu did not doubt that it would have sent the tomb robber to a laughing grave. Seto's face had strained more than usually, that taut mouth twitching oddly and the blue eyes storming, raging with emotions which the Pharaoh could not recognize. Perhaps it had been rivalry, or anger, resent, frustration… he really did not know, there were so many possible alternatives. But that wasn't the weirdest thing about it, not even near.

In just two years time, Atemu had found himself back in life, with his own body, his only company being his lives-long mortal enemy and a very embarrassing and horrifyingly unexplainable atrocity that had sent said enemy into what was most likely a fit of well… sinister delight. This atrocity, which Atemu didn't really regard as one but saying it out loud really made him feel funny, was a little fickle thing called love. Yes, Atemu had, in some way he did not yet comprehend, developed feelings for the last person he would have ever thought he would fall for. Perhaps he had just been lonely, desperate after something to cling to, something that was entirely his, something in this world that actually recognized him as an entity. Maybe his newly gained body had just gone high wired with hormones seeing how it hadn't really had any in the last millennia or so, and this was simply a matter of confusion and lust.

Atemu didn't know, still, eight months into the relationship he was left clueless as of how this could possibly be true. But somewhere along the way he guessed, he didn't have any use of that obsessive rivalry, that urge to always battle against him. There was nothing left to prove, nothing left to claim and thus the competitive race the two of them had been running for so many years, it was left useless, unneeded. This little want for superiority that the two of them had shared, it had crumbled and dissolved into nothing of meaning anymore. Their old relationship, their old battle for dominance and honor, it was useless. But still that obsession lingered, powerful and hungry, demanding attention. This obsession, this game, it had mutated into something else, something blending in with lust and determination and to be fair, they had always perplexed each other, as if spellbound by the other's mere being.

Now, when all the obstacles that had previously lain between them were removed, the only thing left for them was the raw, fierce wanting. They needed each other because otherwise their lives would be so gruesomely hollow. They existed as that force, that balance which kept the other going, thriving for perfection, improvement, victory. When Atemu had gone to the afterlife, Seto had been left non victorious and almost meaningless. What had been left? His company yes, and his brother, of course, but when that only obstacle between him and the place on the throne, the final conquest was gone… well, suddenly, being perfect felt so abnormally lonely. Seto had never really noticed this before. Before it had been him, him and only him that mattered. He and Mokuba, the company, the title of King of Duelists, it was all that mattered, that was important. But then Yugi and that damn Pharaoh had just waltzed into his life and slowly picked it apart.

Honestly, Kaiba thought he would have enjoyed living in a world where his fiercest opponent did not exist, but he had, for the first time in his entire life, been so completely and utterly wrong. It left him about as puzzled as it left Atemu and everyone else once they heard about it. Frankly, on some days Atemu still couldn't really believe it. But it was good, in a way, because more often than so he found himself thinking that without Seto he would truly have gone as insane as Bakura. And that was a fate that did not really allure him.

Bakura groaned, bored out of his mind, turning restlessly in the chair.

''I have no world to destroy, no kingdom to ruin and no games to win.'' He snarled, looking vicious and dangerous, like he always did. ''Why in the flaming bits of hell am I here?''

Atemu looked at him, clueless.

''Actually, I've been wondering that as well.'' He said.

And it was true. He himself had begged the Gods, every last one of them that he could get a hold of and after what had felt like an eternity of this disgraceful, disgusting pleading, they had granted him a new chance at living. Of course he had been warned that it may not be as satisfactory as he wanted to believe. But Atemu, stubborn and independently passionate, had not heeded the warnings in the slightest. Plummeting back into existence, a far more agonizing experience than one would think, he had been thrown out into a world which regarded him as nothing but a stranger. Atemu knew this, he knew why he was alive and for what reasons. But to see Bakura there, on that sidewalk, it had all been so… strange. The thief had not asked to live again, had not begged or pleaded or bargained or anything of the sort. It seemed as if he was just as clueless as Atemu, and this more than anything agitated him.

''Well'' Bakura said, standing up in that flexible way that seemed unique for him, his lithe body stretching out the tiredness ''Since you're the greatest bore there is, I think I'll be heading back to my place.''

Atemu smirked at that.

''Then I wonder how boring your life must be to even make you consider keeping me company.''

Bakura shot him a warning glare, his mouth thin and face ominous. Then, his mouth opened like a nasty cut, revealing a sadistic grin of his own. That insanity that so often roamed his eyes, made him look almost frightful.

He grabbed his jacket in a supple movement, draping in the black fabric, throwing the cascades of white hair back over his shoulders. With one last threatening glare, the tomb robber readied himself for his departure.

''If you only knew, Pharaoh'' his voice echoed, before the man was gone out the door.

Left in his solitude, like still in his tomb, Atemu stood only listening to the silence. Finally he let out a deep sigh, drawing slender fingers through soft, dark, red tinted hair. He shook some golden strands out of his tanned, majestic, shapely face, strong gaze burning a whole through the nothingness that surrounded him. Yes, the world was indeed a lonely place for a ruler, especially when there was nothing left to rule. His bruised back groaned irritably in pain, whining at him to stop torturing it. He scoffed mildly at it, the back arching pain lingering like a bad rumor.

Oh, Ra, he sighed to himself, was this the right decision?

A door from somewhere opened, Atemu for a brief moment not registering this disruption of silence. Steps graciously entered, a conceited, over confident face looking at him, blue eyes filled with so much pride, it was almost hurtful to meet his gaze. Seto frowned at him, the Pharaoh staring at nothing and at the same time, he was looking through everything. Seto was used to it, the momentary space outs that seemed to leap at the Egyptian with a fair bit of surprise. But still, it annoyed him because he never knew exactly what caused it or what was going on inside his head. Partially he was concerned, but the great pride he wore like a medal always told him that Kaiba Seto simply didn't enjoy not knowing stuff. If the situation was not under his total and complete submission and control, he thought very little of it, regarded it as nothing pleasant.

For the moment, those burning, vibrant, red eyes gleamed like rubies into the distance, tanned skin srunched into a very thoughtful expression. The CEO cleared his throat harshly, patience growing thin. Immediately Atemu spun around, staring somewhat bewilderedly at his significant other. Blue eyes couldn't help but hold that patronizing stare which seemed to have grown a part of the iris through the years. As fire and ice clashed together, an explosion of the most fierce passion and power left them in chaos. Atemu blinked, realizing who had come home. A small smile entered his lips then, and he stood up to greet the man with a forceful, strong and yet so timid kiss. Seto felt the slim fingers lose themselves into his brown hair, delicate cheekbones scraping against his pale emotionless skin. He kissed back, answering with double force just to prove how much power he had, how high upon the mountain of the mighty he really was. The Pharaoh always felt the lack of emtion that used to be so evident, that always used to hide itself within Seto's every move and action. What others regarded as possessive behavior, competitive scorn and just plain simple rudeness, he always knew were in fact so much deeper and important things.

But Atemu couldn't help but wonder if it was even there at all.

''Seto, you're late'' he said, half heartedly glaring at the businessman.

Said man crossed his arms, indignant look on his face. The former Pharaoh stared defiantly back, crossing his own arms in imitation. They stared at each other a good long while, silence the only thing that even dared touch them.

''I was busy.''

''Oh?''

He couldn't help but sound suspicious, worried even. Even though he much rather kept his strong mask on, he just couldn't. It always seemed to slip under those blue eyes, which was odd because Atemu never slipped before. It had taken long time for him to realize, that that burning feeling, that urge to always accept the dragon's challenges and the undeniable respect he held, to understand what it really had turned into. In a way he guessed it was strange, but he couldn't think much about that because those eyes, those deep, cold, distant eyes of the most etching blue he had ever seen, they stripped him apart. Atemu never liked that part, and yet he felt a dull ache inside whenever it wasn't there. Seto swept down, like an eagle from the skies, stealing another kiss as if to distract his lover.

''Did you miss me that much, Temu?''

It was a low trick, one Kaiba knew would strike where the Pharaoh was as most sore. He knew that nickname was precious to the royal man, because Seto almost never used it. Yes, after all, Atemu had penetrated his skin in so many ways and on so many levels and he often found himself despising it as much as it intrigued his senses. He loved how Atemu could turn him on and off and up and down and just invoke such fierce storms inside of him, even though he always tried his hardest to hide them behind that immobile face. But sometimes he thought that those crimson eyes saw through his façade, and he wondered just how much of his charade that Atemu was actually buying. But for the moment the red was warm and soft, like ember on a cold night, shooting stars in the empty void. The Egyptian features almost resembled the feeling of silk, and then Atemu smiled – that smile that was so worthy of respect and yet so powerfully tender – and for a moment Seto remembered just why and what he saw in the man.

It had taken a long time to understand, and yet longer to admit it, that there was more to them, between them than they had first realized. To see the Pharaoh back in life, again, it had been an experience without proper name. But he expected no less from his rival, Atemu always had been hard to get rid of. In a way, Kaiba found it intriguing and he rarely found anything envoking such lust within him. To be honest, for a while he had almost forgotten he could feel like this. He had always fooled himself that there was Mokuba, the only human being whom he could care for and that in the sense of a brother but oh, how stupid of him, how blindly foolish he had been to think that his defences could be kept for so long. To his bitterness, Seto hated the way Atemu still defeated him, so long after they had quit their childish games and gone on to much bigger things.

''Don't be conceited, Seto'' Atemu whispered against his neck, leaning against the slim but so very strong frame. ''But yes, I did miss you.''

Perhaps it hurt him that he never could be sure if the man missed him back. But he would have to take that risk, after all love itself was a game but one wagered with so much bigger things. Not unlike a Shadow Game, and after all, the king was a master of such. And in those arms he felt safe, and he hadn't even noticed before that he had felt the opposite. When had he ever felt the need for shelter? Never, not in the many eyars he had existed. Atemu had always stood up for himself, fought and battled for the sake of his own independence, and still there had been a hidden, sneaky part inside that indeed, had not been this confident. Perhaps, he just as any other person, longed for something other than solitude. To be fair, he had been surrounded by solitude far longer than anyone. Three thousand years ought to make him feel bitter towards loneliness, although he was a bit disappointed because it had brought him some pride in thinking he had gotten used to it. And there, under the hands of one CEO, those ideas crumbled like antiquities, scarred by time until they crumbled to dust under the merest breath.

He never was sure of who had won their game and whether or not they were still playing it. But there was something sincere to it all, he knew that. After all, if there had not been any love they wouldn't have been standing there in the first place. But Atemu felt colder, like those blue eyes grew more distant as time went by. And that alone angered him because time had stolen so much from him already, he didn't want it to steal the only real thing in this world that actually belonged to _him. _His memories, his life, his friends, family, identity, everything he had known, had been ripped away from him and yes, Atemu knew there had been good reason to it, but just because there were good intents behind something didn't make it less painful to remember.

''There is some food left'' he said, fingers stroking that shirt covered back.

Seto drew in a deep breath, smelling the scent of that wild tri-colored hair, hungrily.

''I was thinking we could skip right to dessert.''

''Oh? What did you have in mind?''

A sly smirk graced Seto's face as he nodded towards the bedroom. Atemu cast a glance towards the room's door, before shaking his head with a small smile. Before the Pharaoh could protest, Seto had plucked him into his arms and without any complaints, proceeded into the dark. The shadows of the room which swallowed them were so much like the sealing of the Puzzle and yet not. There was darkness and emptiness and maybe even slight cold, but it was lit by their fiery passion and softened by wanting, needing, demanding touches and kisses that ravaged pleading skin. Atemu let the dark and his lover engulf him, but this time, as so many other times that he had come to savor, the monarch was not left on his own.

Or at least, that was what he was hoping for.

**X**

The steady chest of Seto rose slowly but powerfully, as if he was controlling even his lungs when he was asleep. The businessman was a boss through blood and bone, and not even the world around him went free from this behavior. Atemu pondered this as he lay there on the bed, skin curling by the cold he was feeling even though there lay a body beside him under a fancy, overly expensive quilt. The other's breathing and his own heartbeat was the only thing that could be heard through the room and for the moment the Pharaoh was feeling very lonely. He had hoped that when the two of them broke apart from their passionate, wild and loud sex – he always did feel sorry for the neighbors – Kaiba would at least had the decency to hold him in his arms and send him to a peaceful sleep next to his lover.

But no, no, no, no, _of course not_. The mighty Kaiba Seto couldn't even have the decency to even give him a small goodnight peck. Kaiba Seto just moved away from Atemu's exhausted, sweat covered form, sliding on a pair of boxers before turning to his side of the bed which only seemed to grow more distant by each night. Quickly falling asleep, only lack of emotion visible on his face, Seto left Atemu to the darkness of his own mind. As crimson eyes stared absentmindedly into the shadows, his anger purred in its cage. What happened to them? What happened to the long nights of simply holding each other, or early mornings when one would wake the other with a fierceful kiss? Their little games of who could kiss with the most power, or who could get the other to tick or how many ways could Atemu learn to get Kaiba to catch his eye in one day? What happened to blue meeting crimson in a fiery storm and not just a smoldering little spark like it was now?

The former monarch growled, slowly getting out of bed so he could get out of the room, the house, perhaps even his own mind for a while. He could not stay there any longer, it was too much for him to take in one go. Memories of the younger time of their relationship were banging at his head, roaring at him to let them inside so they could have a nice little chat. Atemu growled and growled and glared at them, hating how worked up he even got over this in the first place. Just because the two of them didn't go out anymore, or listen to the silence together, eat brunch on Sundays or play subconsciously with the other's hair it didn't mean they were growing apart. Just because Atemu had stopped trying to tell him 'I love you' because he knew he would get only silence and a smirk in return, it didn't mean their relationship was over and no, the Pharaoh was not being a girly fool for getting angry. He was overreacting over nothing – _nothing –_ it was as simple as that.

In a few quick moments the crimson eyed man had grabbed his clothes and a coat and in another moment, he was out of there. Leaving a sleeping CEO, curious guard dogs and empty promises behind he quickened his steps, urged them forward and upward and down every crooked little street that came in his way. The darkness seemed to follow him this time too, wherever he went it lurked behind the corners, staring wondedring at him, waiting, contemplating. When he had rid himself of the sealing into the puzzle, he would have thought he would never have to see such shadows, endure such hollow solitude or lose himself in winding dangerous mazes like that ever again. But apparently, he had been terribly mistaken. Perhaps, if the maze that was his heart never disappeared then why would everything else? A few regained memories and fulfilled prohpecies didn't mean all the pieces would fall into place.

Was this what Osiris had meant? He remembered it clearly, like it had only been yesterday, and yet somewhat blurry like he had dreamt it all. But he hadn't, he had stood there in Duat, in front of the God himself, nothing but bloodthirsty determination in his red eyes as the God thought things over. The deity had at long last, agreed to give the ex Pharaoh new life. But it had not been without the warning words.

'_Think this over carefully. Once the deceased gain life anew it is never a pleasant experience. You are not supposed to be there._'

He was not supposed to be here. Why on earth was he still here? What did he ever think he had left to come back to? Yugi had his life going on for himself, Anzu had her dancing and Jonouchi one never really knew what he was up to. Honda and Otogi was as good a guess to him as the whereabouts of his library card, which in other words were none. Sure, Atemu saw them, whenever there was an opportunity they met to talk about the good old times and what was going on in the present. Mostly the present, since the Pharaoh felt he had dwelled too much on the past already. But in a way, he didn't think he had really made any progress. It was as if he was neither moving forward nor backwards, he was simply standing still on the wrong place in the wrong time.

Stopping, he looked down at his hand, flexing and moving it examining under the light of a lonely old lamp post. The illumination fell off the tanned skin like water, every movement caught by the watchful eyes of the pharaoh. Was this really his own body? Had he come this far and done this much just to get this? What was he supposed to do? Would his body even stay in his property for the rest of this life? Or was there something going on that he didn't know of? Was Osiris trying to tell him something that failed to gain his attention? This couldn't be over, nothing in life was ever that easy, especially not his life. Sighing, Atemu shoved the hand into his pocket and continued walking, no special way to go in the night but thinking that it didn't matter that much.

He gazed up at the stars, sighing. Of all the times the former Pharaoh had ever felt utterly lost, they were nothing compared to what he was feeling at the moment. Shaking his head, he decided it was futile. Perhaps what he needed was not really answers, but distractions of sorts. Perhaps Seto would come around, he might just be having a bad day – or, more like a bad couple of months. Whatever it was, they would solve it, just like they always did. The King of Games never intended to lose, and it was no different in the game of life.

He would just have to try harder this time.


	2. The Heaviest Heart

Yes, it's short and... not that exciting, really. It's poor for taking me such a long time to make. But yeah. I'm a little stuck with this. I know what's going to happen and all, I'm just... a little unmotivated. But that won't stop me so. Here's the second. My apologies for the vagueness, I guess.

* * *

**Chapter two  
****The Heaviest Heart**

Yugi's laughter came to a slight halt as there was a knocking on the door, bringing his attention away from whatever joke it was that Jonouchi was telling. The blonde was laughing so hard at his own words that tears were sniggering in his eyes, and he almost didn't notice someone wanted to join their little gathering. Yugi got up from the sofa and curiously headed out into the hallway, opening the door in slight anxiety. He didn't know who would be rude enough to knock on their door in the middle of the night, so either it was someone who spelt trouble or someone who was having trouble. Both got the short man worried, but he opened the door anyway, bracing himself for whatever creature would stumble through.

To his surprise, and delight, Atemu smiled at him, raising a hand in greeting.

''Good evening. Am I disturbing something?''

''No!'' Yugi smiled when he had swallowed his surprise. ''Not at all! Come in!''

Atemu accepted, and with a curt nod of his head stepped inside. It felt good to be back in Yugi's apartment, a place he had missed dearly the last months. Shame had grown in him, and the Pharaoh couldn't help but feel guilty that he'd been so obilivious to life outside the mansion. He hadn't had much time to meet anyone really, the past eight months had not allowed it. How ironic that was he didn't even want to think about. It was just frustrating that when he finally thought things would sort out, when every deal had been dealt and his cards were good… perhaps he hadn't, for the first time in a long while, played them well enough.

Yugi's worry though, was not about how seldom his other half dropped by, but the paleness of his skin, the golden colour weak and leaded against his tired eyes. The shorter man's worries that had grown and grown didn't get any better now that Atemu looked twice as worn. It didn't help much that it was half past two in the morning either, and Yugi had a hard time shielding this emotion from his eyes. If Atemu didn't notice or just pretended, he had no idea.

The Pharaoh sat down in the soft, large couch, the cushions nearly swallowing his lithe body. It was only a year ago since Yugi had moved out of the game shop, all grown up and the whole world to discover. Of course, Sugoroku had to try his best to chase his grandson away from the house, telling him that he was young and should enjoy life while he could. Before any of them knew it, he said, they were going to be as old as him. Jonouchi had made a horrified face at hearing that, and the next day had been spent beating every video game he had.

As Atemu watched them, he couldn't help but feel a little proud. They had grown up, and to be quite oustanding people too. Perhaps that just made the whole thing sadder, the fact that he rarely even saw them. Just so he could stay at home, waiting for his lover to return from work, a lover who he didn't even recognize anymore.

''How come you're out this late?'' Yugi still stood, wondering if they had any tea left, while thoughtfully glancing out to the kitchen.

Atemu bit his tongue, the words pushing at his throat like bile, but he swallowed them back. His worries were unimportant, trifle. His friends had suffered enough the first time he came back to the world, it felt selfish to make them go through the same thing the second time. Sure, his relationship problems looked almost non-existent compared to the end of the world and all the things they had endured, but still. It was the least he could do for the people who had saved him, in more ways than one.

''Just felt like taking a walk'' he lied, not knowing if that spark in Yugi's eyes meant he saw through it or not. ''Thinking about what I should buy Seto for our anniversary.''

Jonouchi choked down a snort, still not too keen on accepting Kaiba as one in the gang. The blonde had given the couple his best wishes, of course. What sort of friend would he be if he hadn't? But just because he was happy for Atemu, didn't mean he was happy about Kaiba.

''Oh… wow, I don't know'' Yugi said, chewing his lip thoughtfully. ''I mean, the guy probably has everything already…''

Atemu let out a small, bitter laugh. The sadness of it all just seeming so… ironically funny.

''Yes. I reckon he has.''

''Hey, I know!'' Jonouchi exclaimed, flashing his trademark grin. ''How 'bout you cook him dinner or somethin'? You know, make a little romantic evening!''

''That's a very good idea, Jou!'' Yugi cheered, but Atemu just stared blankly.

He knew Seto wouldn't thank him, knew he wouldn't appreciate the gesture. Knew that Seto would probably not even know it was their anniversary, and if he did… well, he'd probably just send a card. The ex Pharaoh sighed tiredly, shaking his head.

''What's wrong Atemu?''

The Egyptian tried a brave smile, but it fell a little too soon for Yugi to be convinced.

''I'm… sorry, I'm just very tired.''

''Well, duh, it's two in the morning!'' Jonouchi yawned, but was ignored.

''Maybe I should head back home.''

Even though it didn't feel like a home anymore, and even though Seto wouldn't wonder were he was, it was all he really had. Sometimes during the night, Atemu felt it reminded him of a tomb. Dead, cold and quiet, filled with beauty only to be marvelled and not touched. Atemu was so sick of not being able to claim what was his, sick of not having his own life even though he had been reborn. He was so sick of everything he felt that he needed to get away. It didn't matter where, as long as it wasn't there.

''No way, mister!'' Yugi was quick to grab Atemu's arm as the Pharaoh stood up, giving him a much reprimanding stare. ''Didn't you just hear what Jou said? It's two in the morning!''

''But Yugi I…''

''You're not walking the dark streets alone!''

''Yugi, I am not a child. In fact I'm much older than both of you together.''

But Yugi had settled his mind, crossing his arms as he stared meaning at the Pharaoh.

''You're sleeping in my room. I'll take the couch.''

''But I couldn't possibly…''

''You're _sleeping_ in _my_ room.''

Atemu opened his mouth, but all he could offer was silence so he closed it again, sighing. Yugi's eyes were determined and unyielding, his arms crossed and it was funny, he pondered, how much their roles could change. For the moment it felt like he was the one being taken care of, and not the other way around, like he was used to, like it was supposed to be. Maybe the whole problem with Seto wasn't _Seto_ but… maybe it was him. Maybe _Atemu_ had failed as a person. Maybe he was the villain this time?

''Alright, aibou.''

Yugi blinked a little at the name, one that he hadn't been called in forever. A forever which he had spent wondering if the hole in his heart would ever heal, or if he was stuck with the faith of being hollow. He thought that name would never be called to him again, thought he was never going to stare into crimson eyes and see the bravery and pride they always held. Now finally he was, but he wasn't so sure what he thought of it anymore.

''I'll… show you the way''

He knew Atemu could find his way. For Ra's sake, he'd always know. But Yugi just wanted to get away. Away from the awkward silence and Jonouchi's questioning eyes, away from the sadness he saw glinting behind the crimson and perhaps even away from Atemu himself. Yugi sighed, staring up the stairs, feeling he had climbed them too many times already. Wondering just how many steps it took before the last prophecy was fulfilled.

**X**

Breakfast with his friends had been awful. Atemu didn't want to be rude, but he couldn't take the pressure that was surrounding them. Maybe once in his life he could have, but nine in the morning with a headache from hell… no, no matter how much he wished for it, it wasn't in him. He knew they weren't trying to make him feel uncomfortable, they never would think of such a thing and yes, Atemu had chosen himself to intrude but in hindsight he wondered if he should have shown up at all in the first place.

Perhaps he was better off below ground?

Trying to get his mind off things, he had decided to do some good for a change and go buy that present for Seto, even though it was probably a waste of time. If anything, a guy could always dream. And with a little extra pocket money he wouldn't use for anything anyway, Atemu killed time by strolling around Domino city, much like he had done in younger years. The old card game shops he used to visit frequently, glimmering at him in the sunlight. He wanted to resist them so badly, wanted to walk somewhere else but couldn't stop himself, one certain window glistening extra beautiful in the sun.

Red eyes looked through the glass, piercing it as his hands touched the surface. His stare fixated on the cards behind it, staring and staring like he had just found a little piece of himself. There, inside hung an old poster, framed and waiting for some loving owner to gawke at it with great awe and admiration. A picture of Yugi where he looked proud and strong, resembling Atemu with that fighting spirit in his amethyst eyes. Behind him the Dark Magician card magnified, and next to him old dates of a tournament. A tournament Atemu had no doubt that his other half had won.

He closed his eyes, allowing a small smile to transparently glide across his lips. They seemed to have been doing just fine around there. Two years was a very long time in the mortal realm, but to Atemu they had felt like merely minutes. Sighing, he wondered if maybe not, Osiris had kept something important from him. A lesson that could be learned only by oneself.

As he opened his eyes again, something fast and obscure moved by the corner of his eye. Catching the reflection of the shadow in the glass, he turned around, teeth gritted and eyes scanning the area closely. But there was no sign of anything, only people walking around in the mild weather, smiling and enjoying their day. Atemu narrowed his eyes, before his mood dropped even lower.

He wasn't just miserable, now he was going mad too.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, the gnawing feeling of being watched was not easily shaken. Atemu didn't know if it was simple paranoia, or something else. Something threatening or promising, perhaps… maybe nothing. He shook his head at himself, walking away as the square felt like it was moving in on him. Perhaps he had just stayed out in the sun for too long.

The Pharaoh snorted. Sometimes life was just morbidly ironic.

**X**

''Where have you been?''

Cold, blue eyes like steel more than anything in the distance, staring at him with that power only Seto seemed to hold. The one that could make anyone, from king to slave quiver with the guilt of a child and sense that one had done something very wrong. Atemu just frowned at him though, not sure of what his lover was playing at.

''I was at Yugi's.'' he said, voice steady and the happiness that had clung to him earlier seemed to ebb away.

The little joy he had gotten from buying the present in the store seemed to fade, the bag clutched in his grasp suddenly feeling very heavy. The Pharaoh wanted to sigh, but restrained himself, simply looking at Seto as if to challenge him.

''In the middle of the night?''

''I needed some sort of company.''

Seto pulled his mouth into a thin line, eyes sparkling in irritation at the obvious insult. He snorted, crossing his arms as he was not going to back down. All the while staring at his lover, not knowing just where and when the anger came. Atemu looked just as questioning, deep down under the mask of being unbothered they both did. Wondering when the lover had turned into a stranger.

''You could at least leave a note or something!''

The voice hadn't intended to be a shout. It hadn't intended to be much of anything. Seto wasn't sure why he was so angry in the first place. Whether he was just possessive and a control freak, who burst into flames when something was out of order. Perhaps, Atemu wished, he was just worried. But if so, he didn't show and for once the Pharaoh's eyes could not see through the mask that was made so well not even its wearer could.

''I know, I should have called. I apologize.''

''Damn right you should! What took you so long anyway?''

Atemu tightened his grasp on the bag, the present weighing heavily, like all the darkness had gathered inside of it, weighing him down. He looked at Kaiba, thinking in silence before he finally sighed.

''I… nothing''

Seto gave him a suspicioius glare, staring at the bag now as if he hadn't noticed it before.

''What's that?''

''Just something from the store.''

''_That's_ what took you? You've been gone for all day to go shopping?''

Atemu glared, the anger curling inside of him as if Seto's fury was contagious. His crimson eyes darkened to an ominous shade of blood red, his lips quivering in indignation.

''You know Seto, I have a _life_. I do things. Like shopping.''

''How very nice for you! Go shopping in the middle of the night! With _my_ money, I presume''

''Because you obviously have so little of it!''

''What does that mean?''

''It means you're a damn snob, _Seto_''

Seto blinked at the way his name was pronounced, like something bad and foul tasting that fell from the Egyptian's lips, something meant to be hurtful rather than a name. He wasn't sure, but deep down something actually snapped. Deep inside his hollow, empty self, something tore.

''If you hate it so much then why don't you just leave?''

Atemu bit his lip, every hurtful retort drained from him as the words of his lover hit full force. The damage shook his insides, rattling his brain and his heartbeat seemed to stop for one fickle moment. The Pharaoh glared, unforgiving hurt that he tried to conceal with anger, frustration shaking his common sense to nothing.

''As you wish''

Seto didn't understand what he meant at first, raising his eyebrows in question as the other turned back to face the door. By the time that the words and what they meant had sunk in, when Seto understood exactly what was happening the door had already slammed shut.

''Atemu!''

But silence was all that answered him.

**X**

The fist came at him with the speed of a blink, crushing the air and the distance between itself and Bakura's face. The tomb robber was of course not unused to this sort of encounter. In fact, if fighting had been considered a social event he could have been declared the most outgoing person in Domino, and not the antisocial freak everyone claimed him to be.

The slim man ducked with the grace of a cat, missing the damage by a centimeter. With the devil in his eyes he smirked, locking his arm around the other man like a rope, strangling him from behind. The man gurgled and coughed, twitching much like a fish on the hook, fearing death and refusing to meet the Gods just yet.

But Bakura had no intention of stopping. Instead he locked the grip tighter, almost feeling how the air and the life and the very soul of his victim twirled out through his fingertips. He was just about to laugh when quite a solid punch landed on his jaw. Stumbling away, cursing loudly with the blossoming pain in his face, Bakura roared.

His dark eyes sought for who ever had to pay for this atrocity, soon enough locking his sight on the second enemy. The look in his eyes reflected the self-content of a murderer, picking his victim and running towards it. The stranger, like the cow about to be butchered, yelped and turned to run, but it was much too late for him.

One well aimed punch to the chin was what Bakura needed, an uppercut sending the enemy flying backwards and stumbling into darkness. The sound of a skull hitting asphalt blended with the fresh, sinful smell of blood and dirt, and Bakura laughed. Wiping the sweat out of his face, he laughed louder, maniacally letting the sound soar towards the skies like an omen of bad luck.

Swinging around and aiming a kick, the nearly-strangled man who had tried to sneak up on him got a very much unpleasant surprise as the sole of the thief's foot shattered his jaw and with it also his grip of reality.

When the body fell with a loud thump, Bakura brushed off his jacket with a hiss.

''Pussies.''

Now, when the puny obstacles were out of his way he could finally concentrate on his main task. Which was none other than opening a window. If anyone was to go through so much trouble as fighting and climbing three floors, just for the sake of opening a window, it would have to be the Thief King. He would have much rather done something fun with his night, like say break into a vault or a bank or anything large and challenging like that.

But beggars can't be choosers, he guessed. He would make sure to wreak some havoc later on, but for the moment, a good old fashioned job of breaking and entering would have to suffice. Fishing up his small friends, the tools, from his pocket the Thief King began to work his magic. It was a tricky little lock he had found, not very complicated but still harder to break than the others he had encountered during his stay.

But, he wasn't called King for nothing, and soon he heard the familiar little click, like sweet music to his ears as the lock opened. Grinning broad and sharp, a grin that was meant to taste blood, he praised himself for a job well done and marvelled at the beauty of an unsecured window. Kissing his tools a little as if to thank them, he put them back and grabbed the handle.

But it wouldn't move.

''Huh…'' Bakura's eyebrow twitched as he glared questioningly at the window, which quite so nonchalantly glared back.

Summoning his strength he grabbed the handle again, pulling and twisting and turning at it but it refused to let go. Snarling now, he aimed a kick as to break the window. But the glass would not yield, and this was getting on the thief's nerves. Swearing and hissing, he tried a different tactic, standing up as he pulled with all his might upwards. The window budged, sliding up just the tiniest of centimeters. The surprise alone made him drop his grip, and with that fell also the window.

Bakura did not look satisfied.

Deciding he probably had to think things through, he leaned against the railing and began the task of thinking. It was clear that the window was hard to open, but if he tried hard enough it could work. Problem was, it was likely to slide closed if he let go. The object tightly shut, as if sneering at him, made Bakura hate his new life more and more. How a simple little apartment could be harder to break into than a tomb was beyond him, and he wondered slightly if the Gods were just mocking him.

And as he glared at the sky, his question was answered.

Down on the street, which was dark and empty, void of any sound and movement except shadows themselves, something awfully familiar came walking. Something awfully familiar that Bakura, for the first time in his life, was quite so happy to see.

''Pharaoh!'' he hissed, his voice echoing like a curse between the walls.

Crimson eyes looked sharply at him, rubies in the night that did not look quite as happy to see him.

''Thief, is that you?''

Atemu squinted as if it would help him to see better, but no doubt the white dot in the sky was Bakura. As if his mood had not been foul enough, life had to throw him more troubles along the way. The Pharaoh muttered, crossing his arms and taking that silly old pose Bakura knew and despised.

''No, it's Santa Claus. Of course it's me! Now get your ass up here!''

Atemu raised his eyebrows, a little bewildered at that.

''Why?''

Bakura snarled in irritation, gripping the railing in frustration as he did not have the time nor the patience to play games.

''Get up and I'll tell you!''

''No, you won't. You're scheming something, aren't you?''

''What ever gave you that idea?''

The crimson glare grew even thinner, the suspicion inside Atemu only growing. He knew the thief was up to something, and he did not want to take any part in it. If anything, the most sensible thing for Atemu to do would be to stop his nemesis. If not for the sake of whoever would fall victim to the thief's new plan, then maybe for the sake of the past. Even though he had promised himself not to dwell on it, the Pharaoh needed something, anything to remind him that once he had meant something. Once he had held a purpose, and if Bakura was the only one who could do this…

''Alright.''

Bakura smirked. Self satisfaction glimmering darkly across his face, at least something was going his way. Not that he had expected the Pharaoh to give in so quickly. He had expected a fight, or a bickering, anything. But he didn't mind, the sooner they got that window open the sooner he could get the evening over with.

Atemu climbed not all too gallantly, up the emergency stairs with a little more effort than comfortable. Finally swinging his feet over the railing and onto the balcony, nothing had ever felt that good. He sighed, glaring at Bakura, still suspicious and not in a happy mood. Bakura just pointed at the window.

''Open it''

Atemu raised his eyebrows.

''Why?''

''Don't ask questions! Just do it!''

Atemu just kept glaring, not speaking but not moving either. Bakura growled, shaking his head.

''Fine! I'll open it, you'll climb inside and – ''

''I get the feeling this is illegal.''

''Don't be your normal boring self and ruin everything, Pharaoh. Just open the window, do as I say, and go home.''

Atemu stared at his arch enemy, then at the window, back at Bakura and then at the window again. He had a very bad feeling about it all, knowing that if he opened that window something bad was very likely to happen. Bakura tapped his foot impatiently, face twitching oddly in irritation.

''Go on then!''

Atemu just kept glaring.

''Pharaoh, I don't have all day!''

''I'm not helping you with your crimes, Tomb Robber.''

Bakura swore at him, grabbing the thin arm and forcing it towards its goal. Atemu dragged his arm back, but the grip would not falter. Crimson bored their way into the thief, who just bared his teeth at him, almost like a jackal in the dark.

''Don't be such a child!''

''Let me go, Bakura!''

''As soon as you're done!''

''I'm _warning_ you thief!''

Dragging the arm back and forth, their steps were moving and before any of them knew, bodies were being slammed against metal. The railing echoed in complaint as Atemu's back hit against it, and the window rattled in annoyance when it was hit with Bakura's head. How a day that started at Yugi's place, escalated into a fight with Seto and now had come to a wrestling match with his nemesis, Atemu didn't know. He didn't know why the two of them hadn't killed each other yet, wondered what he was even doing there. Wondering why he had to take that road on his walk into the night, wondered just where the madness would end.

Bakura summoned up all his strength, twisting the arm not even sure of why anymore. All he knew was that he had to get control, had to handle the situation, couldn't let the Pharaoh beat him this time. Gritting his teeth, vibrating with the determination in his eyes he thrusted a final time, overpowering the monarch with a little more force than necessary.

And just like that, Atemu's feet slipped.

His back hit against the railing again, the grip on his arm faltering now, and his ears defeaned by the stream of air. The world spinned around, a lunatic flip which made his insides twist and before he knew it, he was suspended in mid air. Emptiness around him, the ground beneath had never seemed so far away before.

''What are you doing?!'' he roared, clinging to the hand for all he was worth.

Bakura groaned at the weight that pulled at him, his other hand firmly gripping the railing, his foot against it as well to keep his body from tipping over. Dangling the Pharaoh in a grip of death for the first time in forever, Bakura was confused as to what he should do. Pull the man up and into safety, or let him fall to his own demise? The question was so simple, and had it been two years back the answer would have been just as simple as well. But now wasn't then, and Bakura wasn't so sure of anything anymore.

''_Bakura!_''

His train of thoughts had stolen his focus, making him loosen his grip and it was with slight panic that the thief felt the arm slid out of his hand. The fabric of Atemu's jacket brushed past Bakura's fingers but as he tried to grab it again, the only thing his fist could get was air. Atemu fell with a deep scream from the back of his throat, air gushing viciously before him as Bakura faded into the distance.

A loud crash was all that followed, and the echo seemed to kill every bit of movement there was around. Bakura held his breath, listening, waiting, tension filling his every nerve. When nothing moved, he swore.

''Oh shit…''


	3. Of Sinners

Finally an update! Don't know what came over me. Eh. Anyway. If anyone's still hanging on to this, enjoy.  
_And ff(dot)net is being mean to me, and refuses to have anything but center aligned text. I don't know what's wrong_.  
Oh well. Hopefully it'll be nicer later.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Of Sinners**

**X**

Pain. All he felt was pain. The taste in his mouth, the air he breathed, even his thoughts were clouded in it. He knew that if he opened his eyes he wouldn't like what he saw. He also knew that if he didn't, the person striding around the room would not be dancing with joy. In fact, despite being in a state that made him sympathize with roadkill, Atemu could sense Bakura was the only other occupant. The way of how he waltzed forth, haughty yet irately, like he wasn't sure what to do, torn between his own thoughts, gave him away. The Pharaoh groaned, mostly out of pain but perhaps also because he wanted to acknowledge that he had awakened. Because, in a way, Bakura wasn't the only one to be conflicted.

The thief stopped in his movements, slowly glancing over to the former monarch that was currently spread out on his couch. So, Bakura hadn't succeeded with his petty little theft. So, his pride was somewhat hurt. He'd come home empty handed and frustrated, just because the Pharaoh had fallen flat on his ass. Huh. And there he was, in Bakura's apartment, looking half past dead and still as big a nuisance than ever. Bakura didn't know if the annoying, and also somewhat frightening, thing was that he had taken Atemu home, or that he'd tried to save him from the fall in the first place.

Obviously he hadn't succeeded, and it had only been a half-hearted attempt, but still. Bakura was a sinner, and sinners were all the same. They sinned. Especially someone like himself, who couldn't get past thousands of years long grudges. He wasn't supposed to be this helpful. He was supposed to go into his kitchen and bring the sharpest knife he owned and ram it right through Atemu's tanned throat. Yet when those crimson eyes opened and looked at him, fiery like glowing rubies through the dimly lit room, something odd struck the thief. It was like some sort of pestering, gnawing little creature that was dwelling inside of him. That had moved in quite some time ago, yet it wasn't until now that Bakura failed to ignore it. Whatever the hell '_it' _was.

Atemu groaned again, trying to sit up but the pain in his limbs actively refused to let him. So he sank further into the worn couch again, his very skin like on fire.

''Well, well, well'' Bakura decided to break the silence, mostly because it was the oddest one he'd encountered so far. ''Sleeping Ugly is finally awake.''

The Pharaoh looked at him again with that dull and indifferent look in his eyes. Quite frankly Bakura despised it more than the arrogant one. At least the arrogant one meant Atemu still would put up a fight. This one, though,meant no play. And no play made Bakura a very, _very_ dull boy. He muttered something insulting, sighing indignantly before fixing a very settled look upon his former nemesis.

''You're just going to lie around all day? I do have a life, you know''

Atemu just blinked. He didn't know whether to be confused about being alive, or the fact that Bakura had dragged him to his secret lair. And even stranger, why hadn't the thief tried to kill him? It couldn't be that the thief had put all his anger behind him and started to see his new life in a more mature way. It wasn't logically possible. For all the years he'd known the man, Bakura had been nothing but vicious. He had lived for vengeance and carnage, spent every chance he had to squash the Pharaoh to nothing. Now, Atemu was a lot of things, but he wouldn't go as far as to call himself that naïve. Or, perhaps stupid was a better word for it.

''Why..?'' he croaked, throat sore and merciless. ''Where..? Bakura?''

''You fell, you clumsy moron. By the time I'd fished you out of the dumpster you were already unconscious.''

Atemu just stared in disbelief.

''And you…'' he paused to take his own words in, as if he did not fully comprehend them. ''You saved me?''

Bakura shivered in disgust at the questioning look he received. The very accusation of showing such mercy revolted him, and the thief did not want to hear such blasphemy spoken in his house again.

''Just shut your mouth!'' he snarled, shaking his head in disbelief. ''Yes, I… _helped_ you.''

He had to swallow down the copious amounts of disgust that sentence had brought him. The sooner he got the Pharaoh out of there the better, both for his sanity and his pride. But Atemu didn't seem to care that much about the thief's dignity. At the moment, he only looked confused.

''Why would you do that?''

Bakura grimaced, not sure of what to say. Honestly, he had no idea himself. It was as if he had gone through a moment of delirium, a fraction of more insanity than usual that had made him act out of character. Why, it was almost as if some invisible force somewhere had forced him to it.

''Mind your own damn business! Are you done loitering now? I want you out of here before you soil the air you breathe''

Atemu locked eyes with him. Dark against dark in a long glare, uncertain of what it wanted but knowing that it wanted it immediately. At last the pharaoh sighed, pried himself out of the oddly comfortable couch and got to shaky feet. The world was one mess of somersaults and spins, a blur of nausea he certainly could have gone without.

Slowly, he tried to keep a regal and respectable stance as he dragged himself out to the hallway. It was a bit harder than he'd liked, but it was as good as he dared hope for. Around thieves at least, one couldn't be too picky.

''That's the spirit! Hop along now!'' Bakura ushered him rudely out the door, slamming it in the pharaoh's face before the latter could even think of a retort.

**X**

Atemu wasn't sure. He certainly didn't want to jump to conclusions, he'd learnt in a previous life that that could turn into quite the predicament. But he couldn't deny the gnawing feeling that something was going on. Like animals can feel the oncoming of a natural disaster hours before it happens, or how a person can wake up sweaty and anxious without knowing why, the night before a friend dies. That was what was going on through his mind at the time, and yet it wasn't.

Something gut wrenching, thousand worms with razor teeth gnawing through his stomach. A chill creeping under his skin, the constant burning awkwardness of being watched. The problem was no one seemed to be paying him attention. Once Atemu had gotten out on the street and recognized his whereabouts, he realized it was only an hour walk to the mansion. Well, perhaps 'only' was a bit extreme way to put it. Atemu had rather not walked at all as his back was killing him, even more so than when he'd slipped on the ice.

Now it felt as if it was going to crumble to pieces, like an old and worn Rosetta stone. A pillar crashing into a pile of dust. Really, that could describe what the entire part of him had felt the last few months. Old and on the brink of extinction. Atemu once again found himself wondering if this place was for him to be. One of the last of his people. The last, lingering relic of a time long gone. He shook his head as if it would rid him of his thoughts, the nostalgia overpowering him was just the straw he needed to break the camel's back.

He considered trying to be optimistic about things, but quickly turned that thought down. After his rebirth, he hadn't had to pretend. He'd been truly, genuinely happy. He got to see his friends again, the people he had missed with such desperation it was scaring him. He was happy that he could finally feel the grass under his feet and the smell of Yugi's hair. He could feel a touch and he could taste, all the things he hadn't done in thousands of years that everyone else took for granted. He'd moved in with Seto, and he had been happy.

It hadn't mattered that the world didn't know of him. It hadn't mattered that Bakura was there with him to make his day worse. He could care less about such petty things, because he had been granted a new chance. A chance at a life he wanted to live. For the first time he could think about himself, and only himself. He didn't need to save anyone, he didn't need any pressure or expectations high as an obelisk. No, he was his own person now and he could enjoy the small, mundane things no one else considered that special.

Perhaps he'd been punished for such selfishness. Atemu thought he was worth a little egoism after two lifetimes of doing nothing but giving. But apparently life itself did not share this opinion as everything started to crumble around him. People started drifting away. Loneliness waltzed in and said 'hello'. The world seemed to move on, but leaving him behind.

Atemu wondered if there was something he could do about that. If it was too late or if he could say something, say _anything_ to make things slow down. To help him catch up. But deep down the voice of reason whispered to him. In the lonely nights and the hollow dark it whispered, and he knew it spoke the truth.

It was too late to catch up with a world that ran past him millennia's ago.

He pulled his mouth into a taut line, wondering if there was some bitter way to view this with humour. Or if the joke was on him, if it had been all this time. Sighing, he straightened his posture and walked through the streets with the last of his dignity. If he could not be a king then at the very least he could act as one. Even if no one remembered him, the pharaoh could always remind them.

But Atemu didn't get that far. The aching in his back had been increasing with every step, but he had discarded it as normal for someone walking through town. Now he couldn't deny the pain, which was turning into a churn, as graciously as he'd previously done. His skin started trembling, the hair on his arms and the back of his neck standing straight up, like soldiers standing at attention. His stomach twisted, his legs shook, his mouth a desert as all moisture seemed to travel to his eyes, blurring his vision.

Atemu didn't know at what point he started twitching. But suddenly he just felt his legs giving up beneath him, sending him crashing to the ground in a fit of stabbing, spine-cracking pain and all he could think of was the agony. A searing, burning from his body, as if someone tried to skin him alive. Atemu tried to scream, he didn't know if it was his dignity or the lump in his throat that held him back. The world turning black and white in turns before him.

Vaguely, distantly he thought he could discern the sound of a voice calling out to him.

**X**

As all the dramas in movies and in books stated, what met him was a big, vast endless white. He felt swallowed by the colour as it was everything that surrounded him. He breathed white, he saw white, he felt white, hell he even tasted white. Corroding his being, he felt strangely weightless. Upheld in this vacuum of silence, he got the distinct feeling he had tread on holy ground. If only he could figure out why it all looked so familiar.

''Son of Akunamukanon, son of Horus, Pharaoh Atemu''

The voice that spoke to him seemed fluid, the purest of silver and gold melting together. He did not know where it came from, or if it meant harm, all he knew was that it seemed awfully authoritative. Perhaps even holy.

''Rise, child'' the voice commanded, and Atemu felt himself being lifted by some invisible force. ''Let us see you''

Atemu wasn't certain which way was up or which way was down, but the voice seemed to be pretty confident as it raised him up. Gently it lowered him onto solid ground, only the thing was there was no such thing as 'solid'. He was standing in the middle of the white, but at the same time it felt like he had a barrier underneath his feet. It only caused him a headache to think about, so he decided to pretend everything that happened around him was normal.

Silhouettes formed before him. Slowly, stripes of smoke slithered before they finally became solid. Atemu's heart scrunched into a painful ball when he realized who they were.

''Atemu'' the falcon headed God settled relentless eyes on him, eyes that looked as if they'd seen a hundred worlds. ''Do you know why we brought you here?''

The former pharaoh looked at him, stupidly. Like the little kid about to get reprimanded by the headmaster of his school, only so much worse. He wasn't certain of what he'd done, but if it was enough for the Gods to bring him there it had to be something serious. Trying to save at least a little face, he settled for a clearing of his throat.

''No'' he croaked, before his voice came out clean and strong again. ''I do not know why. But I am sure you will tell me.''

Ra nodded, gesturing towards the other Gods with the sweep of his hand.

''My brothers and sisters are troubled. You have disappointed us, Atemu''

Several eyes set on the former monarch, as if he should already know their intentions. But he couldn't figure it out, how he had tried for months and months since he returned to life. For the life of everything dear to him, he did not understand their want.

''I have many questions, as you may have noticed'' he said, and he couldn't help the irritation that sparked within. ''So before you accuse me of anything, tell me what it is I was intended to do from the beginning.''

''Very well'' Horus spoke now, eyeing him with dignity. ''We granted you life after your pleads, but you were not sent to life alone.''

''I assume you speak of Bakura.''

''Yes'' the God nodded. ''He was not pleading like you''

Atemu cringed at the way they spoke about him. How utterly disgraceful it had been for him, to throw his entire pride and dignity away for the chance of life. On his knees, he had swallowed the biggest part of his personality. And for what?

''Then why did you send him back?'' Atemu demanded to know, sick of questions that had no answers.

''We sent you to the earthly realm to make peace! To stop this endless war between you and the thief!''

''And I put that war behind me!''

Atemu narrowed his eyes, irritation morphing into anger. An anger that had been living inside of him for so long, it desperately wanted to break free. Sekhmet now took the word, boring the carnage-filled eyes of a predator into him.

''We sent you to negotiate, not to engage in a relationship with a man! The reincarnation of your priest, no less!''

''I cannot help my emotions!''

Atemu was seething now, eyes so red of fire and frustration, he could have butted heads with the Goddess herself. But Hathor wanted to throw a word in, as was the difficulty of having several minds present. They all wanted to speak it, at one point.

''He is worthy of love'' she said, soothingly but with a hint of stubbornness. ''And some say that only the love of another man is good enough.''

''Perhaps'' Bastet countered. ''But women can bring heirs, to make sure the blood of our people is prolonged''

Atemu's blood was boiling. He knew he should be showing more respect, but he had wounded his pride so much for the sake of reverence. He had enough now, he didn't care anymore. All this time of wondering, of questioning but never getting answers, the pain and the desperate anger had finally set its marks.

''It isn't your world anymore!'' he roared with the power of a king. ''The land of the sun is not what it once was! I have a new life, and with it new decisions. And I decide to stay with those I love.''

''You are the embodiment of Horus! You should not bring upon us this blasphemy!'' the lioness snarled. ''How dare you treat us like this? We who gave you everything!''

''Sekhmet, calm yourself. The pharaoh is right.'' Ra silenced them all with his powerful voice. ''He has his right to choose. And whether you take the right or the wrong path, know this that you will not be welcome in our kingdom anymore. You will be the right of the dark to claim.''

Atemu scoffed bitterly.

''I already am.''

The deities watched him. Harshly, sternly, deep in thought. They all wanted to say something, to give their opinion, but waited respectfully for Ra to speak first.

''I will give you another chance, Atemu son of Akunamukanon. If you find a purpose in life, a reason for living, if you deem yourself worthy, you may stay. But take heed of my warning, the fields of Aaru are not for you. And they never were to begin with.''

''And Bakura?''

''Seek peace with the Thief King, and seek peace with yourself. That is your mission.''

Atemu was tired of missions. He didn't want anything to do with prophecies or destiny or the weight of the world. And yet, there he was, finally getting what he wanted and they put this on his shoulders.

''And if I fail?''

Ra looked at him silently, giving them the feeling his words were even more important.

''If you fail'' he said ''You will be brought back to Duat, where the pit of Ammit's stomach is waiting you.''

Atemu wanted to laugh. Bitterly, a choked sound that would seem more as a groan than anything else. But instead he spoke.

''Have you spoken to Bakura?''

''We have… nudged him, you might say''

Atemu looked at them in disbelief, feeling more like an unruly child than a king. The Gods started fading into the whiteness, their eyes still firmly fixed on him even as they disappeared. The last words spoken were those of Horus.

''Go now, child. Your wish has been granted, your life is in your hands.''

Atemu too, started fading. Limb by limb he felt consciousness tugging at him. He closed his eyes and waited for the earthly realm to resurface, all the while a grimace stretching across his face. Oh, well, he thought.

Third time's a charm.

**X**

''Wake up you idiot!''

''Should we call for an ambulance?''

''Is he alright?''

''Piss off! This isn't any of your concern!''

''Sir, I have experience of epilepsy, maybe I could help…''

''This isn't a damn seizure! Stupid, stupid mortals…''

''Are you holding his tongue back?''

''Don't ever say that aloud to me again, or you'll dearly miss your oesophagus.''

Atemu heard the different voices. One sounded female and alien, another one seemed to be a man he did not know. But the third one, the most angry one to judge by his tone, was someone he would recognize no matter how faint it was. Slowly he opened his eyes, which was more difficult than usual. A bright, dazzling light hit his pupils immediately, but it wasn't the same kind of bright as before. This was the rays of the sun stabbing his retinas, and he could vaguely discern the feeling of asphalt underneath him.

What also dawned on him, was that there was a weight holding him down. A strong grip on both his arms, he realized someone was sitting on him. Once red eyes settled to the environment, the sight of white hair was what struck him first. The second thing were two very angry, and very homicidal looking eyes. The pharaoh cocked an eyebrow, not certain of what he should feel about the situation.

''See! He's awake now'' Bakura growled to the curious crowd. ''So you can all fuck off''

The audience didn't want to protest, seeing how the man was obviously of questionable sanity. But at the same time they were curious to see what would happen next. It only took one particularly blood-hungry glare from the thief to make the people settle their minds. They scattered quickly, and soon the two ex-spirits were alone.

Which wasn't such a great thing in comparison, either. Noticing now what position they both had, Bakura was quick to jump to his feet. Atemu stayed on the ground, still not certain of what was going on. All he knew was that the pain in his back had gotten company, by a mutilating headache.

''Bakura?'' he wasn't sure, but the pharaoh thought his voice had come out as a slur.

''Yes'' the thief muttered, crossing his arms as he tried very hard not to let the disdain melt his face straight off. ''I was strolling by and saw you perform your little convulsion-act and… well, you can figure out the rest''

Atemu blinked.

''Huh''

Irritation caused a disturbing little twitch in Bakura's eyebrow, while the man glared.

''Huh? Is that _it?_ You're not even wondering what happened?''

Atemu shook his head.

''No, I know what happened. What puzzles me though, is what you were doing here and why you helped me. Again''

Bakura couldn't help but cringe in despise. As much as he wanted to hear the word 'tongue', the pharaoh's name and himself in the same sentence, did he want to be associated with the word 'help'. Unless it was followed by 'thyself'. In that case it'd be alright. But this was simply getting ridiculous.

''Well?'' Atemu looked at him in expectation, waiting for an explanation.

''Well nothing! I don't have to explain myself to you!''

The truth was Bakura couldn't explain it. It was as if some invisible hand had lured him out of his apartment. Like he hadn't had any control over his own body, someone else had decided where he should go. So theoretically, the decision to come there wasn't his own. The decision to help, on the other hand, that was another mystery.

''I suppose so'' Atemu agreed, and laid still.

Bakura just blinked at him in confusion and annoyance. The monarch accepted his words, and kept still. Lying there. On the ground. The thief felt that something was not right there. Suspiciously, and with much scruple, he crouched down beside Atemu.

''You're hiding something, aren't you?''

''Perhaps''

The thief's face started twitching again.

''You sly little bastard.''

Without warning he shot out a fist to grab the other by his collar, shaking him vehemently in anger.

''Spit it out, pharaoh! What are you up to?!''

Atemu just gave him a hard, empty look. He hadn't fully comprehended the seriousness of his situation yet, and until he did everything else would just seem inconsequential. The thief etched his stare into the crimson eyes, burning with the feeling of losing his grip. He had no idea why he was even there or what he was supposed to do. Sure he had been saved from eternal nothingness, but thinking about it he wasn't even sure it was any better than this. Whatever was going on, he could bet his third life that the pharaoh was somehow responsible for everything.

''I was never supposed to live in Aaru.'' Atemu said then, surprising the thief slightly, and in turn making him more frustrated.

Bakura gave the man another shake.

''What are you talking about? I swear I can't stand all your nonsense!''

''I was never supposed to live in Aaru. Nor ride the boat of Ra. I had shouldered too many sins, shed too much blood even if it was evil… it didn't count, I saved lives but the ones I destroyed weighed so much more in the scale of Ma'at.''

Bakura eyed him suspiciously.

''And?''

''My place was to be in the stomach of Ammit.''

Atemu looked at him now, a blandness in his iris. Like he hadn't accepted this fate yet, more like he had been expecting it all along. Bakura muttered, feeling he was losing the last of his patience.

''Well, Pharaoh, did you ever consider why the Japanese called you Yami Yugi?'' he snarled. ''You're no better than me. We're two darks, and we belong in the endless nothing.''

Finally he seemed to bring forth a reaction from the king, whom was now sitting upright with indignation.

''I spent thousands of years trapped in a puzzle to save my people!''

''And in the end it was worth nothing. In the end you were still damned.''

''I saved my kingdom.'' Atemu glared defensively. ''My friends.''

''Yes, you performed many miracles. But at the same time you made many mistakes. And there is no room for mistakes in Duat.'' Bakura stood up. ''None of it matters.''

Atemu looked long and hard and unforgiving at him, but Bakura would not yield. Perhaps that was what the pharaoh needed. Someone who could understand without pitying, someone who could take a punch or more. Someone who wasn't supposed to be there, and in turn making him feel less lonely. Atemu stood up, shaking his head. Nothing made sense anymore. Least of all Bakura, who smiled viciously at him as they had eye contact again.

''Once a sinner, always a sinner.''


	4. Holy Ground

**Chapter Four**

**Holy Ground**

**X**

''So you have to find a reason to live or they'll send you to hell?''

Atemu nodded, all the while Bakura was looking extremely annoyed. But even so there was still some confusion evident in his eyes, a confusion he had all the rights to experience.

''Right away or do they wait until you die?''

It somehow bothered the pharaoh that Bakura asked him that. What bothered him more was that this was what seemed to interest the other the most. Sighing, Atemu shook his head.

''They didn't tell me.''

''What _did_ they tell you, then?''

Stirring his tea, the ex monarch watched the dark swirl with undeserved interest. Sensing the man was distracting himself on purpose – the thief not knowing if it was because he was emotionally unstable or just wanted to be a bastard – the white haired male gave out a loud cough.

''Hm?'' blinking as he regained a sense of reality again, a light seemed to go off above his head. ''Oh. Well…''

He looked long and hard into menacing eyes, wondering fleetingly if this was a good idea. Allying oneself with an enemy, it sounded ludicrous but then again… he had teamed up with Seto in the past, and that had turned out quite alright. Sure, their rivalry was bread crumbs compared to his and Bakura's outright hostility. And even if confiding in the other was a good idea, was it a useful one?

Were these things to hide due to the probability of the thief taking advantage of it? Or could Bakura, whom was also resurrected, bring some new perspective on things? They were, after all, in a similar situation. Even if Bakura hadn't received instructions from the Gods yet, that time could very well come. And soon.

But the more he looked at the thief, the more Atemu realized; he didn't care anymore.

''They told me to seek peace with you.''

''_Peace?''_ Bakura spat out the word like acid, hoping that he had heard wrong.

''Yes'' unfortunately for him, Atemu had to ruin even this for him. ''With you. And myself.''

Bakura didn't care about that last part. Waving his hand in outrage and high doubt, he continued to splutter viciously.

''Why would they want that? They'll send me to hell anyway! Why would they need this of you?''

''Speaking like that one might think you wouldn't want to be friends with me.''

''Highly amusing.'' Bakura growled. ''What the hell could they possibly gain from this?''

''We are an unfinished chapter in a book people stopped reading. Perhaps, they want us to write the ending.''

''Oh, why do I even bother? You're an idiot.''

Atemu, finally coming to grips with the situation and the turmoil of emotions it brought, was starting to feel tired. Exhausted even, not to mention furious. Sighing indignantly, his praised patience ebbing out, Atemu clasped his hands.

''I _don't _know, okay? I don't know more than you do. All I know is that this is it.''

''This is it, huh? For Isis' sake, this isn't some prophecy, Pharaoh! This isn't some meagre duel to be won by you. This is the _meaning of life_! The mortals have spent eternities coming up with an answer for that – and failed, mind you – and the Gods expect you to do it in what, a month?''

''They didn't give me an exact time rate. But I have the feeling they won't wait forever.''

''This is sick. You know that, don't you?''

''Well, I'm coming to you about it. It isn't exactly what you'd do in sane situations.''

Bakura's lips pursed in thoughtful disgust.

''Why did you come to me for help, anyway?''

''The same reason you help me.''

''Now, that's low.''

Atemu gave him a dry, grave look as all his energy slowly ran out of him. He hadn't the time to argue with the thief like this, hell, he hadn't time for anything. He had a task larger than any he had ever had and to go at it alone... well, he wasn't quite sure he could do that. He had been a pharaoh, yes, but that was a long time ago. And even if at that time he had shouldered the responsibility of an entire country by himself, Atemu was no pharaoh anymore. He was thousands and thousands of years old and his strength was waning. There had already been so many sacrifices, so many fights and losses he wasn't sure how long he could keep it up anymore.

''Yes, perhaps'' he said and sighed irritably. ''But if you hadn't noticed, we'll go even lower if we can't figure it out.''

''_We? _I'm not the one with a mission.''

''Yet.''

''Look, obviously they want to torture me. But I highly doubt they'll give me anything. Besides, didn't you say you would go to hell anyway?''

Atemu shrugged.

''Damned if I do, damned if I don't, as the mortals say.''

Bakura held his answer for a moment, contemplating his situation. He wasn't sure what to do anymore, the rules of the past seemed to have changed over time. Now remained only watered down copies, foes were not enemies and friends were not allies.

There was really nothing too negative about this; if he helped Atemu, perhaps he would be rewarded despite his sins? They didn't even have to get along while they did it, as long as they got some results through. As for making peace with him, well those things could always be faked. Would the Gods notice any difference? What did it matter if the two of them got along for tea, as long as they weren't waging war on each other anymore?

But then again, his war had been everything that Bakura had lived for. The last thing which made him tiredly cling to life, through eternity it had seemed. His life would have been nothing, he would have given up a long time ago if not for the hope, the longing of one day watching Atemu fall by his hand.

Was he really ready to give that up just for some peace? Could he even enjoy that peace if he knew that his lifelong goal had never been fulfilled? If he even was rewarded at all.

Bakura studied the man that sat by his table, quietly. What he saw, he realised, was no longer the man he had once tried to kill. There was a broken shell which stayed, long after the essential fire had burned out. Would there be any satisfaction from ending his misery? Or would it rather be considered merciful? Bakura didn't know, he didn't know anything anymore and it filled him with an infinite amount of rage. As if all he had ever strived for, suddenly turned to nothing. Just dust, spreading in the wind.

Bakura clenched his fists. Even this they took from him? Not only his life and eternal peace, but also his own revenge? What use was there to even be saved anymore? He had nothing left, nothing to take pride in and nothing that had been worth the fight. Why would he help Atemu when there was nothing for him to gain?

The things inside him that had been left to rot suddenly burned with a new hatred. A black and tarnished shadow clenching his insides to nothing until Bakura could taste blood.

Maybe he was looking at this the wrong way? Instead of aiding the pharaoh, he could play this game to his advantage. If Atemu wanted to take _everything_ away from him, perhaps, there was still a sliver of hope for him to get his revenge? If Bakura played along like a nice boy until the very end, he could completely turn the tables.

With renewed vigour, Bakura turned to give the man a rancid grin.

''Do you have any ideas as to where you should start?''

Atemu furrowed his brow sceptically.

''I don't know.''

''Well, what _used_ to give your life a purpose, then?''

Atemu wasn't sure he liked where Bakura was going, or why. It didn't seem likely that the man would make a total change in character just to help him, and with that the questions seemed unnecessary. Taking his time to answer, wondering if he even should, Atemu regarded the thief warily.

''Yugi.''

''Well, maybe you're secretly in love with him. And that's what the Gods are playing at.''

Atemu glared.

''Relax!'' Bakura sighed. ''I know you're taken. Honestly, what do you see in that twit anyway?''

The pharaoh diverted his eyes to his hands, woeful all of a sudden.

''Seto could always make me feel like I was the king of the world.''

He was expecting a wave of mockery to be launched towards him, but was surprised – a bit unpleasantly so – to find Bakura looking seriously at him.

''Talk to him.''

Atemu blinked.

''What?''

Bakura rolled his eyes.

''Talk to him.''

''But he won't…''

''No, _talk_ to him. Don't just shout nasty remarks or... just… talk. Okay?''

Atemu wasn't sure just how to handle this conversation, and instead just kept on staring mutely at the thief for a while.

''Okay.''

The room fell silent after that and no one made much of a move to do anything else. Atemu had gazed off into nothing, seeing something invisible and hearing only his own rampaging thoughts. Bakura stood left to watch him, wondering if this was a great plan or if it was just another scheme destined to fail.

''Taking relationship advice from an insane thief'' Atemu startled him with a dry chuckle, turning to look at him. ''What has the world come to?''

Bakura snorted. Staring out the window, all the moving cars and smog stained clouds moved past as if nothing. Regular people running by with no idea of how good they had it, of what easy lives they were all living. Whining about their payments and bills and debts and relationship problems, their life was a sweet dream compared to what had been happening long before their births.

''A new era''

**X**

Atemu was no expert on life, despite having lived it for far too long, but he reckoned that if he should start anywhere it should be with the most obvious. Though, standing outside of the mansion's gates he didn't feel too secure in his decision anymore. He hadn't spoken to Seto since he left, and right now he had no idea as of what to say. There were a lot of his things he wanted to say but very few of them could be put in words. Even if they could, he feared that they would be lost on Seto's unwillingness to listen.

But as he was already there, he turned on the communicator and waited for its flickering screen to get a clear picture. Within seconds a guard was shown, looking at Atemu and recognizing him instantly.

''Good day, sir!'' he said and Atemu nodded at him.

''Good day. May I come in please?''

''Of course sir, let me just open the gates for you... sir''

Atemu didn't have to wait too long before the man did as he promised and the large, overly decorated gates swung open ominously. Waiting before him was now the long, winding path leading to the mansion. For some reason it felt more like he was about to partake on a long, perilous journey instead of visiting his boyfriend.

''Thank you'' Atemu said and began walking.

''You're welcome, sir!'' could be heard behind him before the communicator turned off.

The walk was long but it felt even worse than it really was. Passing the perfectly mowed lawn and the spotless garden, he felt less and less like he was coming home by each step he took. Instead the building looked more like a prison, waiting to catch him in his web. Perhaps he was being a tad overdramatic, but he had tried and failed to fight the dread away. How the meeting with Seto would go, or what he would say, he did not know. But it needed to be done and it was unwise to wait.

So Atemu rang the doorbell and knocked on the door for good measure, waiting quietly while he heard movement inside. In just a few seconds a maid had opened the door, smiling as she recognized him. Atemu was a bit ashamed that he hadn't learned her name yet. But to be fair, Seto had more employees at home than there lived people in Yugi's neighbourhood, so it wasn't exactly an easy task memorising all of them.

''Good day, sir!'' she said, looking confused. ''Have you misplaced your key?''

Atemu forced a smile on his lips while he shook his head.

''I wasn't sure if Seto was home.''

''Oh, Mr. Kaiba is home so you're in luck. Welcome in, sir!''

Atemu wouldn't exactly describe it using the word 'luck', but said nothing as he stepped inside. Standing in the massive hallway, which looked more like a ballroom, he fiddled his hands awkwardly without saying anything. The maid looked at him uncertainly, tilting her head.

''Shall I go fetch him for you, sir? Or, do you wish me to lead you to him?''

''I won't be staying for long, so if you could please get him for me I'd be most grateful.''

The maid nodded, looking a little worried, but decided to stay out of matters which did not concern her and went off to do as she was asked.

''Certainly, sir. Just a moment, then''

He watched her long skirt move as she left, his heart suddenly sinking with doubt. What was there really left for him to have in this cold and empty house? He had more encounters with the staff than with Seto himself. Things, like a lot of others, were not what they used to be anymore. Where he had once felt loved and welcome, at home and even at peace, now he felt only like a stranger in someone else's house.

''Atemu?''

The pharaoh looked up to see Seto walking down the stairs, the maid bowing to them in the background before running off somewhere where she was better needed. Atemu felt his stomach flip and turn when Seto met his eyes, suddenly wanting to turn around.

Seto stopped close enough for them to hear and see each other, but not so close that they entered each other's personal space. Something which made Atemu cringe inside, remembering a better time when they barely left each other's sides.

''Seto'' he said, trying to keep his voice neutral but instead it slipped out as a desolate drawl.

Seto looked quietly at him for a few minutes, before patience ran thin. There always seemed to be that everlasting fear of losing time, with him. Something Atemu couldn't really relate to as time had lost its meaning to him long ago.

''You wanted to see me?''

Atemu sighed.

''Yes. I...'' he took a small pause, biting his lip. ''I need to... _We _need to talk.''

Seto regarded him stoically for a moment, moving no muscle in his face.

''Take off your shoes and we can go to the library.''

Atemu didn't really want to take his shoes off because then he wouldn't be able to leave as quickly. But fleeing the scene wasn't really fitting for a king, and he knew that this was something he couldn't run away from. Without a word, Atemu did as he was told and followed the brunette.

He remembered the corridors of the mansion by heart, but still let Seto take the lead. It was easier if he just wouldn't have to look at him too much. Those blue eyes had always had an eerie way of knocking him off his path.

It didn't take too long to reach the library, and once they had Atemu was hit with a certain sense of nostalgia. All the large and long book cases filled every massive wall; containing so many books that Atemu would have needed to spend a month to count them all. Even longer just to read them. It was his favourite place in the entire building, mostly because they contained a lot of historical books. It was somewhat like looking through family albums.

''Well'' Seto gestured towards the leather armchairs. ''Have a seat. Do you want anything? Brandy? Water? Coffee? Tea?''

''Oh, for the love of Ra'' Atemu snapped. ''I'm not a damn client, Seto, so would you stop treating me like one?''

Seto bit his cheek for a fraction of a second, but quickly let his emotionless mask slip on. How Atemu had grown to loathe that mask.

''So what did you come to discuss?''

''I didn't come to _discuss_, I came to talk.''

''Alright. Go ahead.''

Atemu sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. This wasn't feeling like such a good idea anymore. Tiredly he met Seto's eyes, suddenly feeling as old as he was.

''I can't keep doing this, Seto.''

''Keep doing what?''

''This. Us. Everything. It's just... You've changed.''

Seto scoffed.

''That's absurd.''

''No, it isn't!'' the monarch flung his arm out, eyes wide with frustration. ''You can't possibly tell me you're so dense you haven't noticed it!''

Seto momentarily let the mask slip to don a face of irritation. His eyes narrowed and hard, there was nothing kind in his voice when he spoke.

''Noticed _what_?''

''We're drifting apart''

''Oh, please don't turn this into a soap opera.''

Atemu barely knew what to do with himself as the rage overpowered him. Clawing down on the armrests he tried his hardest not to lash out and attack his lover. Seto took a different approach to it and focused his attention on pouring up a glass of brandy, his hands visibly tight as they clutched around the glass bottle.

''I don't know what you're so upset about, Atemu. Everything's fine.''

''No, it's not fine! It's nowhere near fine and it hasn't been in a long time!''

Seto sighed irritably and swirled the glass around, back still turned to him and his body stiff.

''Are you mad about our little argument? Because if you are – ''

''I'm not mad about that! Or, well, I am. But it's not just the argument, Seto, it's...'' he sighed and scrunched together over his lap, head in his hands and despair in his eyes. ''God, how do I explain this?''

Seto turned around with his glass just in time for Atemu to look up at him. That pair of crimson eyes hitting him like a fist in his guts. But the CEO remained composed as he took a small sip from his drink.

''It's obvious that you don't love me anymore'' Atemu said and when Seto made a move to protest he put his hand up in interruption. ''No, don't argue with me. It's true. You don't touch me like you used to, you don't look at me or talk to me. For heaven's sake, you never _smile_ at me anymore.''

''You know I'm not big on the smiling thing.''

''Yeah, well you always managed a small one every now and then. And it was always sincere, and I loved that... It used to make me melt. But now... now the only time you ever socialize with me is when you want sex.''

Seto frowned.

''That's not true''

''But it is!'' Atemu straightened, suddenly energized by all the emotions that had been drowning him for so long. ''We don't talk, we just utter meaningless phrases like two strangers in the street. And I don't know if this is all my fault or your fault or both but... I can't keep doing this, Seto. I just... can't.''

Seto stood silent and lost in thought for a moment, clutching the glass in his hand until his knuckles turned white. Seeing Atemu sit there in the armchair, something in his chest closed. He knew Atemu hadn't been happy in a while, for god's sake, he wasn't blind. He knew something was wrong and he knew that they were falling apart; he just never knew what to do about it. Emotions had never been his strong point and even if he wanted to, he didn't know where to start.

''I...'' Seto started, but no words came to him as he did not know what to say.

Atemu sighed, shaking his head he regretted ever coming there at all. For a moment he had wondered if he should tell Seto about his mission, but discarded the thought as it was probably not worth the bother.

''I just want to know'' the tan man said and closed his eyes. ''I have... I don't have much time. And I can't be wasting it on being with someone who doesn't want me to stay.''

''What do you mean you don't have much time?'' Seto frowned. ''Is there something you're not telling me?''

''It doesn't matter.''

''Of course it matters! What are you saying? Are you... what, are you dying?''

Atemu gave a mirthless laugh.

''Technically, I guess.''

Seto's eyes hardened. After he slammed the glass down on the little bar he walked closer to Atemu in wide, striding steps. Resolute in his movements he hovered over the other like a storm cloud.

''This isn't a joke, Atemu. What the hell is going on?''

Atemu clenched his jaw as their eyes met. Seto was trying not to let the rage show too much, but he was visibly shaking with indignation.

''I don't have cancer or anything. It's just... well, you know all that magic you never cared much about?''

At first Seto looked puzzled, but by the seconds his eyes lit up with some sort of insane amusement. He backed away a few steps to laugh coldly and hollowly, shaking his head as he could not believe the words that were coming out of the Egyptian's mouth.

''Oh, god. Have you been hanging out with Yugi again? I swear, if this is another 'saving the world' thing you've got going on – ''

''It's not the world I'm trying to save, you bastard! It's us!''

Atemu stood up now, eyes livid and restless and there was nothing more but tenseness in the air. Seto composed himself and stared coolly at him, arms crossed and body rigid. Atemu's heart was beating so loud he almost couldn't hear himself think.

''I'm not trying to save the world'' he said through gritted teeth. ''I'm trying to save you and me. But obviously you're not interested in taking in a damn word that I say and I realise now that this was a complete waste of time.''

Atemu stormed past him and towards the door, leaving Seto with a sliver of surprise in his face.

''Atemu, wait! You don't have to – ''

But Atemu would not wait, and he would not listen. He had tried too much already, given so much there was nothing left inside of him to take. Seto wouldn't listen, Seto wouldn't understand. Most of all he would never admit that it wasn't the same anymore. Atemu had tried to get inside his world for so long, and at first he thought he might have succeeded but apparently he had been wrong. Grabbing his shoes and leaving that entire world behind him, he knew that though things had changed, the more they had also stayed the same.

And Seto was a closed door that he could never open.


End file.
